The moment I found out I was pregnant, I prayed I wasn’t carrying a baby girl. I was so committed to the idea that I picked out dozens of names for the boy I hoped was in my belly. I was too nervous to find out the sex of my child, so I let the nurse tell my boyfriend, who was dying to know. I forbade him from telling me. I wanted my baby more than anything, but the thought of bringing a little girl into the world who might be subjected to my fate was horrifying. I wanted to save my future “her” from an unkind world filled with unkind men who saw a little girl like me as an ugly, nasty dishrag
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